Abraham Lincoln. William Eleroy Curtis

malice toward none; with charity for all; with firmness in the right, as God gives us to see the right, let us strive on to finish the work we are in: to bind up the nation's wounds, to care for him who shall have borne the battle, and for his widow, and his orphan—to do all which may achieve and cherish a just and lasting peace among ourselves, and with all nations."

      General Sherman described it accurately when he said, "I have seen and heard many of the famous orators of the century, but Lincoln's speeches surpassed them all. They have never been equalled. It was not his scholarship; it was not rhetoric; it was not elocution; it was the unaffected and spontaneous eloquence of the heart. There was nothing of the mountain-torrent in his manner; it was rather the calm flow of the river."

      Lincoln's own comments upon his inaugural address, like everything he ever said about himself, are unique. In reply to a complimentary letter from Thurlow Weed, he wrote, "I expect the latter to wear as well as, perhaps better than, anything I have produced; but I believe it is not immediately popular. Men are not flattered by being shown that there has been a difference of purpose between the Almighty and them. To deny it, however, in this case, is to deny that there is a God governing the world. It is a truth which I thought needed to be told, and, as whatever of humiliation there is in it falls most directly on myself, I thought others might afford for me to tell it."

      Messrs. Hay and Nicolay, who were nearer to him and knew him better than any other men, say, "Nothing would more have amazed Mr. Lincoln than to hear himself called a man of letters; but this age had produced few greater writers. Emerson ranks him with Æsop; Montalembert commends his style as a model for princes. It is true that in his writing the range of subjects is not great. He was chiefly concerned with the political problems of the time and the moral considerations involved in them. But the range of treatment is remarkably wide, running from the wit, the gay humor, the florid eloquence of his stump speeches to the marvellous sententiousness and brevity of the address at Gettysburg and the sustained and lofty grandeur of his second inaugural; while many of his phrases have already passed into the daily use of mankind."

      But he made other speeches, equally admirable, and some of them unsurpassed by the greatest political or platform orators. Wendell Phillips, Henry Ward Beecher, Robert G. Ingersoll, James G. Blaine, Benjamin Harrison, and others who have gained fame for oratory have each given testimony for the simple yet sublime eloquence of the great master. Many critics consider Lincoln's Peoria speech of 1854 the ablest political argument ever delivered, and assert that no master of logic in the world could have answered it. One of its epigrams has been quoted thousands of times. "When the white man governs himself," he said, "that, I acknowledge, is self-government; but when the white man governs himself and another man besides, that I call despotism."

      If Lincoln had been born in old England or in New England, if he had been educated at a university, if he had spent his childhood and youth in luxury and under refining influences, he might have been a greater orator, statesman, and politician than he was, but a nature and a mind like his required the discipline and conditions which he passed through to attain their full development. It is an interesting subject of speculation, concerning other self-taught men as well as Lincoln; but, as a rule, the most powerful minds and the most influential characters have been without the training of the schools, and by contact with gentler and refining influences Lincoln might have acquired polish at the cost of his rugged greatness, his quaint habits of thought and odd but effective phrases, the homely illustrations, and the shrewd faculty of appealing to the simple every-day experience of the people to convince them of the force of his facts and the soundness of his reasoning. His logic was always as clear as his candor. He never failed to state the argument of his adversary as fairly and as forcefully as his own. His power of analysis was extraordinary. He used the simplest words in the language, but they strengthened every case he stated, and no fact, or anecdote, or argument ever lost force or effect from his style of presentation. It has frequently been asserted—and his speeches, state papers, and private correspondence are sufficient proof—that he could state a proposition more clearly and forcibly than any man of his time; yet his language was that of "the plain people," as he used to call them. This faculty was doubtless due to his early experience among the illiterate classes on the frontier, and certain errors of grammar and construction which are familiar to all who have lived among that portion of the population frequently occurred in his compositions. At one time during his early days as a speaker he adopted the flamboyant redundancy of style that is still popular in the South and certain parts of the West, and often used many of the familiar tricks of emotional orators; but his own common sense and the advice of Judge Logan, his law partner, soon corrected this fault, and he studied a simpler style which was much more effective. If he had been less gifted in language he would have been quite as clear in statement, quite as persuasive in his presentation of an argument, because he aimed not to excite admiration, but to be understood. His earnestness was not intended to excite the emotions, but to appeal to the reasoning powers of the persons addressed, and his knowledge of human nature taught him how the mind of the average man worked. At the same time he could reach the most accomplished scholar and the most thoughtful philosopher. For example, his letters in explanation of his delay in proclaiming freedom to the slaves, especially that addressed to Mr. Greeley in 1863, are masterpieces of clear and forcible writing.

      One reason for Lincoln's power over his audiences was his intense sincerity. He carried his conscience into every discussion, he took no position that he did not believe was right, and he made no statements that he did not believe to be fair and true. Another was the sympathy he excited; when he related a story he laughed all over, and his own enjoyment was so contagious that the effect was greatly increased.

      He once said to Mr. Depew, in reference to some criticisms which had been made upon his story-telling, "They say I tell a great many stories; I reckon I do, but I have found in the course of a long experience that common people"—repeating it—"common people, take them as they run, are more easily influenced and informed through the medium of a broad illustration than in any other way, and as to what the hypercritical few may think I don't care."

      His pathos was quite as effective as his humor. His natural tenderness, his affectionate disposition, his poetic temperament, his sympathy for the weak and the sorrowful, and his comprehensive love of all that was good inspired him with a power to touch the hearts of the people as no other man in this country has ever been able to do. James H. McVicker, the famous actor, once told the author that the most marvellous exhibition of elocution he ever witnessed was Lincoln's recitation of the Lord's Prayer, and said that Lincoln told him at the time that it was the sublimest composition in the English language.

      Lincoln had the advantage of a photographic memory which could retain almost any passage in literature, and he was able to repeat long passages from Shakespeare and other plays and poems which pleased him. It was only necessary for him to read them over once or twice and they remained in his memory forever. He developed this faculty early in life, and it was the greatest enjoyment allowed the humble people among whom he lived to hear him recite passages from the books he had read and declaim selections from "The Kentucky Preceptor," which was a standard text-book in those days. He could repeat with effect all the poems and speeches in other school-readers, and his talent at mimicry furnished amusement for the neighborhood. The traditions of Gentryville tell us that the neighbors seldom gathered for a "raising," or a "quilting," or a "paring," or a "husking-bee" without hearing Abe Lincoln "take off" the itinerant preachers and politicians whose peculiarities had attracted his attention and appealed to his sense of humor. He attended all the trials in the neighborhood, and frequently walked fifteen miles to the town of Boonevile when court was in session there. His faculty was so well known in that part of the State that the lawyers and others who gathered on such occasions would invariably induce him to make a stump speech or imitate some backwoods orator. His essays and rhymes were much admired, and an itinerant Baptist preacher was so impressed with one of his speeches on temperance that he sent it to friends in Ohio, where it was published in a newspaper; the first of his writings to appear in print. Another essay on "National Politics," written when he was nineteen, gave him great local reputation for literary talent. One of the lawyers who practised in that circuit and was considered a very high authority declared that "the world couldn't beat it."

      It is also related that he frequently interrupted